Don't Sweat It
by parttimeficwriter
Summary: A birthday treat for my Pea friend. Harry and Ruth.
1. Chapter 1

**A birthday treat for Emma Pea! **

**Self beta'd so all mistakes are mine – don't go blaming anyone else!**

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"You off home?" Ruth tried to keep her tone light, hoping to disguise her disappointment that he was leaving so early. Although, on reflection, she reasoned that 8pm on a Friday night was hardly early by most people's standards. It was unusual for Harry though, he was always here, sometimes until the early hours of the morning.

"Oh, er, no. I just..." he paused and shuffled awkwardly, "I just have somewhere to go."

"Oh," her mouth went dry and she felt decidedly sick. _He's seeing someone. Oh God, he's met someone else. Don't cry, whatever you do, don't cry. _"H-have a nice evening."

He gave her a polite smile. "Don't work too late."

She bit her lip and stared furiously at the computer screen trying to blink back the tears she could feel welling in her eyes. She knew she had no right to be upset, not when she'd rebuffed him but the thought of him with another woman made her physically ache.

"I won't." There was a definite wobble in her voice but if he heard it, he didn't show it as he strode into the pods and left.

She tried to reason with herself through the tears that fell, despite her attempts not to shed them. Perhaps, she was jumping to conclusions? Surely, one early finish didn't mean anything, did it?

--

Over the following weeks her worst suspicions were confirmed. Well, not _confirmed_ as in the sense of conclusive proof but she was certain he was dating someone. In her more generous moments, which were few and far between, she could admit to herself that spending time away from the Grid was doing him good. He looked a little leaner and she tried to push away the thoughts that followed about ways in which he might be burning off calories. His initial early departures from the Grid had been confined to Friday evenings, but as the weeks passed he was noticeably absent, to her at least, on other evenings with an increasing and alarming frequency.

She knew she should be happy for him. Or at least should _try_ to be happy for him but she couldn't, not when she was heartbroken and torturing herself at every turn with thoughts about who _she_ might be. Her mind conjured up images of what she might look like and how they might be together. Did he love her, this woman that had captured his interest enough to lure him away from a job to which he was married? She desperately hoped the answer was no and alternately hated herself for being petty enough to hope it wouldn't last and clinging on to the small ray of hope that, maybe, just maybe she would get another chance. Ruth promised herself that she would seize the chance should it ever arise. She now knew the depth of love and feeling she had for this man. If only she hadn't realised it so late, she would be the one who got to gaze into his soulful brown eyes, she'd be the one who got to hold him in her arms, she'd be the one that got to love him.

--

Beads of sweat rolled down his face as he shadow boxed with the punching bag that hung from the ceiling. It felt good to focus his mind on something that helped to erase the tension of the day and he could admit to himself that he was finally beginning to see that his hard work was paying off. He felt 

leaner and more energetic than he had in a long while, some of the muscle definition was back on his chest and arms and he was proud that the little paunch that had crept up on him was receding. He was determined to get back in shape fully now, especially since he had noticed Ruth's eyes lingering longer than usual whenever he was near. He had taken to flirting with her more than usual and whilst he sensed there was a definite spark of interest from her, he couldn't help but notice a lingering sadness behind her eyes. It pained him to think that she was sad about something and on more than one occasion had almost given into temptation to ask her what the matter was, but somehow the moment always got lost.

Harry remembered how good it felt to be in shape and, whilst he had no desire to get a six pack or try and sculpt himself into some sort of male model wannabe, had to admit to himself that he would be more than happy to flaunt his trimmer physique off to a certain intelligence analyst, should the opportunity ever arise. He shook his head and tried to clear his mind of her, this was not supposed to be time in which to daydream about Ruth, he already did enough of that in the office and at home.

He focused his attention on the punch bag again and pounded it with a series of punches. Jabbing and crossing as he moved from foot to foot.

--

By the seventh week Ruth was at her wits end and did the only thing she could think of. She liberated a tracker from the stash in the forgery suite, rationalising that it wasn't technically theft as she had every intention of returning it, before nervously attaching it to Harry's suit jacket when he had left his office to get a cup of coffee. He had almost caught her in the act and she had been tetchy and nervous for the rest of the day. Guilt at betraying his trust warred with her need to know for certain what he was doing on those evenings he left the Grid early.

By half past eight she was a wreck, her concentration had been severely lacking and in all honesty she couldn't recall anything she had done for the last two hours that didn't involve thoughts about Harry, his mystery woman and how he might react if he were to catch her spying on them. Determined to see her plan through, despite the fear that her heart might break in the process, she waited until he had cleared the pods before bringing up the software for the tracker. Ruth decided she would wait and see where he ended up before setting off to join him, hoping that she would reduce the risk of being spotted by doing so. Her fingers drummed rapidly against the surface of her desk as her frantic eyes followed every move he made on screen. So far, he hadn't left the building, merely ventured to the basement, where she presumed he had got caught chatting to someone before being able to make it to his car. When, after twenty minutes, the flashing red dot that indicated his location hadn't moved she worried that he had somehow found the tracker and removed it to purposely throw her off the scent. Her instinct told her that wasn't the case and over the mild panic and hysteria that was starting to set in she managed to hold onto the thought that he had no reason to suspect he was being spied on by her. She scoured her memory and tried to think of what else might be on the basement floor and when she failed to come up with anything she turned her attention back to the computer and pulled up the floor plan of Thames House.

--

She would never have believed it if she hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes. Harry Pearce in the gym, of his own free will, working up quite a sweat from what she could see. She hid behind the door and wondered if it would be possible to get any closer without being spotted. She knew she should leave but she was enthralled by the sight of him. Before she could talk herself out of it she had snuck inside the gym. She crept carefully over to the vaulting horse that was closer to where Harry was working out and peered round the side of it, watching him intently as he worked the punch bag. He 

looked good, there was no denying that. She'd never seen him in shorts before and was busy inspecting his manly thighs when the sound of his voice shocked her.

"Ruth?"

_Shit! _She ducked back behind the main bulk of the vaulting horse and tried in vain to make herself invisible.

"Stop pretending you're not there. I can see your legs." He stooped to pick his towel off the floor and wiped the sweat from his face as he waited for her to show herself.

_Shit, shit, shit. _She knew she didn't have a choice now and sheepishly stepped out from behind the vaulting horse she had hidden behind.

"What are you doing here?" he asked incredulously, unable to believe that Ruth Evershed – hater of all sport type activities – had set foot inside the staff gym.

"Oh , um, well..." she played with the ring on her finger nervously as she desperately tried to think of a good excuse for her being there.

"Were you...did you follow me here?"

"What?!" she snapped, a little too loud. Fortunately for her he took her increased volume to mean outrage at the accusation.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. What are you doing here though?"

"I came to look. At the gym I mean. Because, well..."

"Yes?" he was getting impatient with her.

"I want to toughen up." Where she had plucked that from, she had no idea, but as excuses went she didn't think it was a bad one.

"Oh, right. Fine."

"What are you doing here anyway Harry? Do you come here often?"

"Shouldn't we be in a crowded bar when you ask me that?" he teased.

"That's not answering the question."

He arched an eyebrow at her and she was aware she was on dangerous ground. "Once or twice a week, for the last couple of months." The fact that he answered her question honestly, when he would have told anyone else to mind their own business, was not lost on either of them.

"Oh thank God," she mouthed, silently, as she looked down at the floor. Relief flooded her as she realised that this was where he had been the entire time. He hadn't found anyone else, he'd just found something else to do. She was so happy it was all she could do not to march over to him, grab him by his sweaty t-shirt and kiss him like her life depended on it.

"Why?"

She looked up, trying to wipe the smile from her face as she did so. "Why, what?"

"Why is it so important to you to know where I've been?"

The question caught her off guard and she floundered as he stepped towards her. "I-it's not."

"You don't usually lie to me, Ruth," he stated as he came to a halt at the other side of the vaulting horse.

"I'm not!" she willed herself not to crack under the intensity of his stare. Suddenly, she wished she hadn't ventured down here.

"Try again."

Anger swept through her and despite the fact that he was right and that she had spent the last two months waiting for this opportunity, the lies poured from her mouth. "It isn't important to me, Harry. I'm not bothered what you do with you spare time, where you go or who you spend it with!"

"You expect me to believe that you just happened to decide you wanted to go the gym, at the same time that I'm also here?"

"Yes! Why is it so damned difficult to think that I might want to learn how to defend myself?"

"Prove it then," he dared, voice rising to match hers.

"Prove it how?! Harry, you're the one not making any sense. Why is it so important to you that you prove me wrong?"

"I think we both know the answer to that one, yet it seems I'm the only one ready to admit it." His voice was quiet as he spoke. He gave her one last look of appeal before turning round and walking back to the punch bag. He hit the bag with renewed vigour, stopping when he sensed that she was still watching him. He stilled the bag between both hands, his eyes practically boring into it as he addressed her. "If you're serious, I can teach you some basic self defence."

"Thank you," she whispered hoarsely as her hands shook. "I'd appreciate that."

He nodded and swung the bag away from him again. "Go and get changed."

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**Please review and there will be more!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I should point out before the rest of the fic that the self defence moves are based loosely on my knowledge of Karate and a few other tricks I've picked up along the way! They are by no means an in depth or accurate description of martial arts. Also, kids, please don't try them at home :P **

**Thanks Em x**

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_Of all the stupid, cowardly, ridiculous and bloody stupid things to do!_ She cursed herself, slammed the changing room door behind her and leant back against it. _Just what the hell do you think you're playing at?! _She couldn't decide if she was more pissed off with herself for lying to him or for getting herself into the predicament she now faced. _Self defence lessons! _Her hands covered her face, rubbing over her tired eyes as she tried to think of a way out if this mess.

"Nope," she muttered wearily after a few minutes, "you're really going to have to do this, Ruth."

She took a few deep calming breaths, trying not to remember just how sexy Harry had looked when he was all sweaty and angry before he had told her to get changed. _Shit! Get changed into what?! It's not like I actually brought sportswear, is it? Oh well done Ruth, you really are stu...hang on!_

She raced over to the other side of the room and weaved her way through the rows of silver lockers that were lined up neatly. She slowed her pace as she located the correct row and scanned the numbers until she found the one she wanted. Giving up a silent prayer that her thinking was correct, she twiddled with the numbered dial until it unlocked, and eagerly rummaged through the contents of her locker.

"Aha!" Her triumphant cry was followed by some mild cursing as she managed to spill most of the contents held inside the metal container on the floor in her haste to get to the desired items. Clutching her MI5, regulation issue, physical training kit in one hand, she stuffed everything else back in the locker and breathed a sigh of relief.

_Perhaps a trip to the gym isn't such a bad idea after all,_ she mused as she squeezed herself into the shorts; shorts which were much smaller and tighter on her now than they had been when they were issued to her. She didn't have time to worry about if they were appropriate or not, having already taken far more time than was actually necessary to change. Muttering to herself, she did some lunges, hoping to stretch the tight navy material, as she threw the grey t-shit over her head and scraped her hair back into a messy ponytail. Finally ready, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and headed back into the gymnasium.

--

"Five more minutes and I was going to send a search party," he growled, as he heard the creak of the door, followed by her light footsteps. "We haven't got all bloody nig..." whatever he had been about to say stuck in his throat as he finally swung his head round to look at her.

She did her best not to squirm under his gaze but it was hard not to when he was quite so obviously distracted by her appearance in the decidedly tight and short shorts. When he hadn't averted his eyes after two minutes, or said anything further she called him on it. "I'm up here Harry."

His head snapped up immediately and she struggled to breathe at the look in his eyes; a combination of anger, embarrassment and pure lust swam in the darkened depths and it was all she could do not to fall at his feet.

He cleared his throat. "Right, you should warm up first."

Ruth stared at him blankly. "Warm up? What does that entail?"

Harry rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. If she was here to do any form of exercise, he was Mother Teresa. He bit his tongue, deciding they had already fought enough for one night. "Do a couple of laps, ride the bike, stretch. You know, warm the muscles up?"

"S-stretch? In, in front of...I mean, here?"

"No, in the bloody car park! Of course here!" he was fast losing his temper with her.

"I was only..."

"For God's sake, it's not like I'm going to watch!" he snapped, getting increasingly annoyed.

"I never said anyth...fine," she stalked off to the other side of the gym, making a beeline for the exercise bikes and leaving Harry in no doubt that she was as pissed off with him just now as he was with her.

He watched her clumsily climb onto the bike and tried not to laugh when she lost her footing on the peddles and almost fell off.

"I thought you said you weren't going to watch," she grumbled, accusingly, as she gave him a hard stare. He returned her look with one of his own before simply turning away and taking his frustrations out on the punching bag.

They remained on opposite sides of the gym for a good ten minutes, occasionally sneaking glances at one another but both stubbornly refusing to make the first move. In the end, Ruth had no choice but to speak to him when her exercise bike beeped loudly announcing the end of her work out to them both. She had a brief thought of carrying on regardless, to spite him, but her legs were already aching from the furious pace she had set in her anger, and she doubted she could take much more.

She did a couple of little stretches by the side of the bikes, using the time to summon the courage to talk to him again. She hated how much of a coward she was. How could she betray her feelings and push him away after all these weeks of despair that he might have found someone else? She wanted him more than anything else, so why was it so bloody hard for her to say so?

"I'm, um, I-I'm done warming up." At least the earlier harshness had vanished from her tone; she was grateful for that.

He stopped what he was doing and faced her. He offered her a small smile, letting her know that they were ok, for now. He pointed to the crash mats and training mats stacked at the back of the room. "Good. Help me get some mats set up and we'll get started."

--

Finally happy with how their impromptu training area was arranged, Harry explained to her what they were about to do. "We'll just cover the basics, Ruth. A few punches and kicks and then I'll show you some holds and things like that, ok?"

She nodded, trying not to get fixated on the image of being in a 'hold' with Harry. She blushed as she realised her holding position might be slightly different from the one he had in mind to show her. Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice and was, instead, instructing her to widen her stance.

"Feet shoulder width apart, Ruth. Then put your left leg out, so it's in front of your right one, and bend your knee slightly," he watched her and smiled to himself as she did as she was told, even if she had got it slightly wrong. "I meant bend your left leg, not the other one," he murmured before surprising her and crouching down in front of her. He grabbed her leg and moved it forward slightly before encouraging her to bend it, "that's it. Good girl."

He stood back up and moved a few inches closer to her, reaching out and placing his hands on her shoulders as he did so. "Keep your shoulders square," he said, moving her until he was happy with her position, "that's better."

His hands lingered on her shoulders as they stared at each other. He was so close to her, she could smell his aftershave mingled with his sweat and had to bite her lip to keep from announcing that she liked it.

He dropped his hands suddenly, as if he'd just realised he was still touching her. "Let's start then."

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** A review would be lovely and would encourage me to post the next part...which might be written! :P**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks Em.**

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They had covered the basics quickly, Ruth proving to be a fast learner and an attentive student. There was still a lingering awkwardness between them, despite them both trying to act cool and calm every time they touched…which, it turned out, was rather a lot. Every move he showed her, she would then repeat slowly while he adjusted her body until she had it right. Then, she'd repeat the move on him and he would block it. He wasn't letting her get away with half hearted attempts either; he kept on at her to 'put some force behind it', glaring at her and making her do it again and again until he was satisfied that she wasn't holding back. He called a break after half an hour and as she caught her breath and stretched her already aching muscles out, and fetched two bottles of water from his stash by the punch bag.

"Here, drink this," he ordered, passing her the bottle of cold water before settling himself on the edge of the crash mat.

She joined him on the mat, sitting side by side and greedily drinking the cool liquid. "Thanks, Harry."

"How're you finding it so far?"

"Good. It's quite enjoyable, really."

He gave a small laugh and she turned to face him, wondering what was so amusing. "Not sure if I should be offended or not that you find attacking me quite enjoyable."

She wasn't sure there was an appropriate response to that and settled for a friendly smile in lieu of answering.

"Ready to carry on?" he asked as he stood up and offered her a hand up. The faintest of blushes coloured her cheeks as she slipped her hand into his and allowed him to pull her up. She was distracted by how right it felt to have his large, warm hand wrapped around her smaller one and as a result held onto him for fractionally longer than was necessary. She dropped his hand and took a small step backwards as she realised and wished she hadn't as she saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes.

"Ha..."

"Right then, blocking," he stated brusquely, cutting off whatever feeble attempt at an apology she was going to make. "We'll start with the easiest one."

Her brow furrowed and he found it hard not to smile at her evident confusion. "Just step out of the way, Ruth."

"Oh! Right, ok. No problem. I'm sure I can manage that."

"Just concentrate and remember what we talked about before – it doesn't matter who the opponent is or how big they are. Just keep your focus and use your brain. Fast thinking and legging it at the first opportunity has saved my life more than once."

She nodded, earnestly, and waited for him to start. There was a moment where he seemed to be unsure of himself before he finally moved and made to punch her. She had plenty of time to side step the punch and surprised him with a small playful jab to his ribs. "Now who's holding back, hmmm?"

"I'm not going to go all out, Ruth, you might get hurt."

She looked at him as if he had suddenly lost it. "Get hurt? Harry!"

"What?"

"Why is it ok for me to 'go all out' and not you? Aren't you the one that keeps saying that we need to make this as real as possible?"

She was beginning to get angry and Harry was reminded just how sexy she could be when she was like this. Her anger bubbled just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at a moment's notice and he wondered what would happen when it did.

"Yes, it needs to be real but not at the expense of you getting injured and, without wishing to sound sexist, I punch harder than you do."

She scowled at him for the remark but decided not to comment. She couldn't deny that there was some truth in what he'd said, but she wasn't about to admit it to him.

"Let's just carry on shall we? When I think you're ready for a bit more I won't hold back as much ok?"

She nodded and muttered something under her breath that sounded like 'patronising bastard', but he wasn't sure.

He did notice, when they started up again, that she was channelling her aggression into her moves which, in turn, made him 'attack' her with more force. Instead of just attacking and blocking, she was now counter attacking and trying to catch him off guard. The gloves were most definitely off. They were practically sparring now and, as she threw another punch in his direction and followed it with a combination of moves that almost caught him out, he had to admit that he might have underestimated her. He thought about calling a halt to it before someone got hurt, but his pride and curiosity about how this would all end wouldn't let him. They were circling each other now, her face set in a determined line as she looked for an opening, a weakness, in his defences. She saw his left shoulder drop slightly and went in for the kill. There was a moment of confusion as she felt herself falling backwards and, as her back hit the crash mat, she realised what he had done.

She laid there panting from the fight and glaring up at him as he loomed over her. "Rather unfair to use a move that you haven't shown me."

He offered his hand to help her up. "You didn't give me chance to show you."

He clenched his teeth and flexed his jaw as she rolled to the side and stood up, ignoring his hand. "Ruth..."

"Let's go again."

"I thought you wanted me to show you the leg sweep?"

"I think I've seen all I need to see of it, thanks," she replied, sarcastically.

He could feel his hackles rising and clenched his fists tightly to stop himself from saying something he would later regret. She knew from the look on his face as they squared off again that she had finally pushed him to a point where he wouldn't hold anything back, which was what she wanted. She concentrated hard, watching him as he circled her, biding her time until she felt the moment was right. He should have seen it coming but didn't and, as her leg made contact with the back of his ankle, he realised, a split second before she did, that she hadn't moved her leg back out of the way. He toppled backwards and his weight made her stumble enough to reach out and grab the only thing close to hand, which happened to be his arm. It felt as if they were moving in slow motion; she managed to free her leg before they came crashing down onto the mat but was unable to do anything other than cling onto him as they sailed through the air. They landed in a tangled heap with Ruth sprawled on top of him.

"Are you ok?" she asked, partly out of concern and partly out of the need to say something.

"Just peachy," he muttered darkly. "Happy now?"

She glared at him, unable to decide if he was genuinely angry or if he was just put out that his pride had been dented. "Actually, I am. It's not every day that I actually get to win some..."

She didn't have chance to finish her sentence because the next thing she knew he had gripped her wrist and flipped them both over so that he was now on top of her and she was the one left flat on her back, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"You know, Ruth, you should always finish the job off before gloating," he said, smugly, and fought hard to resist the smile that threatened to escape as he watched her go from confused to outraged in three seconds flat.

"You can never let anyone else win can you?" she spat as she tried to wriggle out from under him. "It doesn't matter what anyone else wants does it? What I want?"

His grip on her wrists tightened and she felt him move them roughly above her head as he leant closer to her, his face millimetres from hers. "If I always got what I wanted then you'd have been in this position a long time ago!"

There was hardly time for her to take in what he had said, let alone reply, as he did what he had wanted to do for months, even years, and kissed her. His mouth pressed against hers and caught her in a hard kiss. Her lips were soft and inviting as he kissed her with a relentless passion. Her lips parted slightly as she responded to his kisses, and it was all the invitation he needed to slip his tongue between her lips and flick it over the edge of her teeth before massaging it encouragingly against hers. He kissed her with an enthusiasm and determination which made her light headed and unable to think. She could feel his solid chest against hers, the rise and fall of it matching her own as they pressed closely together. Her legs moved of their own free will and, before she realised what she was doing, they were wrapped firmly around his waist and his evident arousal was pressed firmly against her thigh. Suddenly, the thought of where they were and what they were doing, entered her head and it was enough to make her tear her mouth away from his.

"Harry..." he took his name as an invitation to kiss her neck and she had to bite her lip sharply to make herself concentrate. "S-stop, Harry. Please."

The effect was immediate and he pulled away to look at her, confusion and hurt swimming with the passion that was still there in his eyes. "Ruth?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, before scrambling out from under him and running off towards the changing rooms.

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**More soon! **


	4. Chapter 4

**M rated so don't read if you shouldn't.**

**Thanks to Em for the beta.**

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For the second time, in only a matter of hours, she found herself hiding in the changing rooms. Although, this time, she never actually wanted to leave the sanctuary the cool, darkened rows of lockers offered her. She had run away from him, again, and now she wasn't sure how they'd ever get past it. She sat herself on the cold, tiled floor and leant back against one of the metal lockers, staring morosely into space as she tried to understand why she had run away from him again.

"Ruth?" Her name was followed by the sound of the changing room door being pushed open.

"Go away, Harry," she said, as firmly as she could manage, hoping he would do as she asked and just leave her there.

"I'm not going anywhere, so you might as well just come out here and face me."

She cursed, fluently, under her breath and weighed up her options. After a moment's hesitation, she stood up, squared her shoulders and went to face him. He looked utterly out of place stood between a row of lockers and the showers, and she was sure she would tease him about it under normal circumstances.

"What do you want, Harry?"

He snorted loudly. "I'd have thought that was obvious, Ruth."

She ignored the barb and tried to find a way out of the conversation. "Do we have to do this now?"

"Yes. We have to do this now." He took a step closer to her and willed her not to step back. "I want to know why you keep running away from me; from what we both so obviously want?"

"I didn't ask you to kiss me!"

"Maybe not but it looked like you were enjoying it from where I was," he countered and took another step closer to her. Two more and he'd be able to touch her.

"Don't Harry..." she pleaded.

"No! Don't, 'Don't Harry' me. No-one can kiss like that and not mean it, Ruth. I love you." He took a step and followed it with another half-step until he was dangerously close to her. "Tell me you don't feel the same way."

"Harry, I-I..." she tore her gaze away and studied her feet, "I have to shower."

"Say it. Say you don't love me."

"I really do want to go in the shower, so maybe..."

He had finally had enough of her feeble excuses. He moved quickly, closing the gap between them and surprising her by lifting her up.

"Harry! What the hell are you doing?!"

Ignoring her, he carried her over to the row of shower cubicles, juggling her awkwardly in one hand as he reached behind the shower curtain and set the water running. She saw what he was about to do seconds before she found herself under the stream of hot water.

"You wanted a shower, I provided it. Now we can talk," he told her as he set her down and she looked at him incredulously.

"I didn't mean I wanted one fully clothed!"

"Tough. Answer my question."

"You haven't asked a question," she countered and found herself pinned to the shower wall as a result.

"Fine, I'm asking one now. Do you love me?"

The water cascaded down on them both and as her eyes finally met his she knew she didn't want to fight anymore. She wanted him and needed him and he was right there telling her he loved her: nothing else mattered anymore.

"Yes," she whispered and he heard it despite the sound of the water running. "Yes, I do."

And then she was reaching up, her arms wrapping around his neck as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. He was unresisting as she explored his mouth with her tongue and his body with her hands. Her fingers toyed with the hem of his t-shirt, briefly dipping underneath the sodden material to touch his bare skin. Her hands continued their exploration and, as her fingernails scraped fleetingly down his lower back and her fingers threatened to wander southwards, he tore his mouth from hers kissing along her jaw until his lips rested against the shell of her ear.

"Didn't you say something about not wanting to be fully clothed in here?"

She shuddered at his intimate murmur, resting her head back against the wall as she covered his hands and placed them on her hips, using their joined hands to push the wet t-shirt up her stomach. She pushed off from the wall and raised her arms, allowing enough room for him to slip the t-shirt up over her head and off of her. Harry slipped his arms behind her, fiddling with the clasp of her bra until it gave. The soggy material stuck to her body as she slid her arms free and he had to reach out and peel the material from her slick skin. His eyes greedily took in the sight of her semi-naked form as rivulets of water cascaded down her shoulders and over her breasts. Her nipples jutted out invitingly and he was unable to resist leaning down and licking the drops of water that clung to her breast in tiny beads. Her fingers threaded through his damp hair, which was beginning to curl at the ends, and she moaned his name loudly when he repeated the move on her other breast. He alternated his attention between her breasts, sucking the peaks of them into his mouth before releasing her slowly, scraping his teeth over her nipple and rolling his tongue around the puckered flesh as he did so.

Ruth slipped her hands from his hair and down to his waist, eagerly pulling at his t-shirt. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to run her hands over his broad chest and feel his heart beating strongly beneath her fingers. She tugged the grey material up, encouraging him to leave his thorough exploration of her chest for a moment so that she was able to get it off him completely. As his t-shirt slipped to the floor in a sodden heap, she wasted no time and pressed herself against him as she leant up to capture his mouth once more. His hands wandered over the skin of her bare back and she used his momentary distraction to turn them both 180 degrees before pushing his back against the wall. The tiles were cold against his skin but he couldn't have cared less about that, since she took advantage of his new position, rubbing her chest against his as they kissed, before she suddenly pulled away.

Her eyes locked with his as she slid her hands down to the waistband of his shorts, extending the fingers of her right hand until they brushed against the straining bulge at the front. He bit his lip as she circled a finger over the tip of his erection, the friction of the damp material heightening the already heady sensation. Her smile had an air of mischief about it and his heart pounded as he 

watched her slowly lower herself to her knees. Her hands slipped under the waistband of his shorts and her eyes never left his as she teased the material over his erection and then down his muscular thighs and strong legs until they pooled at his feet. When he didn't move, she gave his leg a small nudge and he took the hint and stepped out of the shorts, kicking them to one side before eagerly resuming his position. He groaned, wantonly, as she licked her top lip in a torturously slow manner, and he didn't know if he could take the intensity of it all. Ruth saw the desperation in his eyes and obligingly slipped her mouth over the tip of him, swirling her tongue around the head of his shaft as she did. Her right hand wrapped firmly around the base of his erection as she slid her warm mouth up and down his length.

He rewarded her with a loud moan and she carried on enthusiastically until his hand reached down and cupped her face, moving her away from him. He helped her stand, kissing her lips and stroking his tongue against hers as their bodies collided again.

"I want to be inside you," he announced, his passion roughed voice making her tremble with desire.

"Oh God," she breathed, against his mouth. "I want that too."

His hands dropped to her waist and he pushed her shorts down and taking her underwear off with them. She helped wriggle free of the clingy material, laughing when they got stuck part way down her thighs. "They're a little tight," she admitted as he dropped to his knees and pulled them the rest of the way off.

"I noticed that. Especially when you were stretching," he teased, as he stood back up and trailed his fingers slowly up the inside of her thigh. Her breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the wetness of her arousal; his touch was electric and she couldn't help the loud moan of longing that escaped from her throat. He was unable to resist dipping the digit inside her and, as he found his rhythm and massaged her clitoris with his thumb, she grasped at his chest, dragging him across the shower until her back was against the tiled wall. One leg lifted and hooked around his hip, urging him to lift her up and replace his finger with something sturdier. He was quick to follow her lead and, in the instant that her other leg wrapped itself firmly around his waist, he entered her. He pulled out of her as slowly as he could manage, savouring every second of intimate contact before slamming back into her with a force that surprised them both. Ruth eagerly matched his movements, spurring him on to take her harder and faster, until their pace was frantic as they both chased the orgasms that lingered just out of reach. She swore and dragged his mouth to hers, kissing him relentlessly as her walls clenched around him and dragged him into his own sweet oblivion. Their kisses abated to a constant touch, mouths resting against one another and the warm water raining down on them as they fought to control their breathing.

Harry was the first to move, reaching behind his back to unhook her legs before he slipped out of her and lowered her to the floor. Her legs shook and his hands shot out to steady her. "I thought it was me that was meant to have trembling knees after that," he joked as he pulled her in for a kiss and manoeuvred them both under the direct stream of water.

"I can't believe we just did that," she giggled, as she ended the kiss, and he couldn't decide if she was embarrassed or not.

"Me neither," he admitted as he fixed her in the eye. "I'm not sorry it happened, Ruth."

She smiled and ran a hand over his chest. "Nor am I, before you ask."

"Good. Shall we get out of here? Get a very late dinner, maybe?"

"I'd like that," she whispered, and a coy smile claimed her face as she reached for the shower gel. "But I think we should get cleaned up first."

Her hands ran appreciatively over his shoulders and down his chest, the lathered soap dripping down his body. His eyes closed as he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of her massaging hands, only to open them again as she moved her hands progressively lower, running nimble fingers over his rapidly hardening erection.

His hand shot out and covered hers. "I thought you said we were getting clean, not dirty?"

She laughed, delightedly, and moved more firmly against him. "Whoops, my mistake..."

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